


nelson & murdock & page

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comic-Con, Conventions, Cosplay, Dorks in Love, F/M, Jon Snow Knows Something, M/M, Multi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, WELL THEY WILL BE SOON
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14690823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: “we didn’t come to this con together but we’re all dressed as various members of a team so everybody’s making us pose together”Or: in which they all meet at a convention for which they dressed appropriately.





	nelson & murdock & page

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ladymissandei for first round at [asoiafrarepairswap](https://asoiafrarepairswap.tumblr.com/) \- the request was for Jon/Sam/Gilly but since there was no prompt I went on an imagine your ot3 blog, looked around for one that might go and I saw THIS one and went like OKAY THIS COULD WORK. I hope modern au is all right for you, sorry but I tried it with canon and it was fighting me tooth and nail /o\
> 
> Also: nothing belongs to me as usual, the title for once does but it's really basic and it's THEIR COSPLAYS PRETTY MUCH and yeah, have a lot of horribly tooth-rotting fluff. Tell your dentist you're welcome.

It took Sam _years_ to actually go for it.

Good thing that his mother was actually supportive and covered for him, because if his father knew that he’s going to a con in _cosplay_ at the ripe age of _older than six_ ( _way_ older than that, since he’s turned nineteen a few months ago) he’d make sure Sam knew exactly how much he found it a waste of time, ridiculous, childish and eventually useless, same as he thinks of Sam’s uni choices, but never mind _that_.

And honestly, Sam kind of always wanted to, but given that he’s spent his entire teenage years feeling woefully unattractive and being told the same all the damned time, he wasn’t exactly up for, well, putting himself on display for other people so eagerly.

 _But_ , two years in uni have been way better than his entire stint in public school, when he actually told his mom she seemed enthusiastic and agreed to cover for him _and_ help him with the costume, and fine, he’s going alone and not with friends as most people do, but who cares? He’s doing it for himself, not for anyone else.

Admittedly, it hasn’t taken much work. Foggy Nelson, other than being the perfect type for his build, is a badass character from a damn good show and comic, is relatively easy to cosplay: he only needed to find a suit in the right colors and to print out a few fake business cards to give out to other attendees, and since he’s decided on it the month the first season of _Daredevil_ came out he’s had some six months and he let his hair grow out a bit so he could have the same haircut. Of course his father didn’t appreciate, but who even cares — he already thinks the worst of him because he’s studying history and not business and he’s not _putting the only good thing he has going for him_ (as in, his smarts) _to good use_ , so he has nothing to lose, not really. So now he’s putting himself in the line for the free entrance for cosplayers, straightening his tie; hopefully everything is going to go fine, he’ll have some fun, he’ll have done what he’s always wanted since he was ten or so and his father won’t know.

If he makes some friends, well, that’d be a plus, but he’s not counting on that too much.

A few people _do_ compliment him while they wait in line, though, which turns into him thanking them in return while flustering a bit, because _no one_ ever compliments him on anything if they’re not his mother or his sister. He supposes at least it started well, and he’s moderately thankful that he picked a medium-small event to start with because he doesn’t know if he’d have braved it if there were _more_ people.

So.

He gets his ticket. He gets it checked. He swallows as he walks inside the venue and feels for his business cards in his pockets. He should probably start handing them around just to start things going, but he figures he’ll walk around for a bit, just in case.

It’s been five minutes of looking around at the stands and so on when a young girl who’s _most definitely_ dressed as Jessica Jones, even if her hair’s a tad too short, stops him and asks him if he’s supposed to be half of Nelson and Murdock.

“Oh, yes,” he replies at once. “Would you like a card?” He hands it over to her — she looks at it and nods approvingly.

“Is this your first rodeo?”

“At a con? Uh, yes,” he tells her. “Does it show?”

“Yeah, you look great but you’re not relaxing. Chill, no one’s going to care.” She gives him a thumbs up and disappears in the crowd, his card in between her fingers.

Well, _great_. At least it’s starting better than he had imagined.

He walks around a bit, hands out a few more cards to anyone he sees in Marvel or DC get up and everyone compliments him on how well that costume came out, and — wow. He’s not used to this. Everyone is _complimenting_ him, what the hell?

Well, that was — that was kind of what he was hoping for, right? He grins as he makes his way towards a merchandise booth. Or well, that was the plan.

 _In theory_.

Because then —

“Hands off!”

Wait. That was a girl. Somewhere behind him. He turns and assesses the scene — yeah, it’s a girl, giving him his back, with dark blonde hair, and she’s apparently just slapped this guy who’s facing his way and looking at her — _not_ nicely.

“Oh, come on, I didn’t mean anything by it,” the guy says, and he actually _sounds_ sleazy. Sam has never heard anyone _sounding_ sleazy rather than _looking_ it, but this dude qualifies if anything because he’s what, thirty-something and the girl is around his age and the looks, tall and _broad_ and angry and , don’t exactly help. “And you walked right past here, what was I supposed to do?”

“Running into you accidentally doesn’t mean you get to _touch_ ,” she says, obviously sounding uncomfortable, and then the creep actually touches her ass, and —

Sam’s never been the kind of person who gets to play knight in shining armor, but fuck it. Honestly. He hates creeps and the girl sounds scared out of her mind.

“Hey,” he says, stepping in before he loses his guts, “she _did_ tell you she’s not interested.”

Two things happen at that point.

First: the girl turns towards him sending him a _grateful_ look and he realizes that she’s very, very pretty, with large brown doe eyes, a heart-shaped mouth and a small, nice notes, and she’s also in cosplay, _and_ she’s dressed like Karen Page out of everyone — what were the odds?

Second: the arse is _tall_ and he’s looking down at Sam like he wants to punch Sam in the face, and hard.

“What, she’s your girlfriend?” The guy sneers, closing his hand into a fist. “You sure you don’t want to leave when you still can?”

Instinct is telling Sam to flee.

But the girl’s suddenly reached out and held his hand and she looks _terrified_ and —

“You know being dressed up doesn’t mean she wants you to feel her up, right?” He blurts instead, wondering how he can get the security to get here without screaming or making a scene, but they’re nowhere near _any_ security and the hall’s empty —

“And how about you leave them be before I call security?” Someone from behind the guy says, and right, another man, definitely, and suddenly the arse is not looking at them anymore but instead at the other person, who’s… well, damn, _what a coincidence_.

It’s another guy, who looks maybe a bit younger than Sam, but he wouldn’t know for sure, given that _he’s in full-on Daredevil get up_ , red costume and all, mask included.

And who then proceeds to kick the tall and burly arsehole in some place on the shin that must _hurt_ , because the guy about howls in pain.

“I actually _do_ have a couple of black belts,” Daredevil-Cosplay says. “Are you leaving them alone or do i have to show you that I can put you on the ground regardless of how much taller you are?”

He twirls a baton in this hands, once, twice, and the tall arsehole decides to leave.

“Though luck, I did warn security,” the guy says, turning towards them, and obviously glancing down at their still joined hands. “Oh,” he says, “wow, he was feeling her up when you’re together?”

Right.

Because they’re still holding hands and they have _matching costumes_.

The girl blushes and leaves his hand, but she does look — kind of _sad_?

“No, actually, but — it was fortunate that we ran into each other. All of us, I guess. I mean, what a coincidence, right? Oh, uh, I’m Gilly, by the way, thank you. For a moment I saw myself lost there.”

“Oh, it was the least,” Sam stammers. “I’m Sam. And you are —?”

“Wait, _Gilly_?” Daredevil-Cosplay says. “Ah, I _knew_ the voice reminded me of someone.”

He takes the mask off and —

Well, _damn_. If Gilly’s _pretty_ , this guy is is _hot_ — and hey, Sam’s always appreciated both men and women though he never told anyone bar his mom about the first part of that equation, figuring that his father wouldn’t appreciate, and it’s not as if _anyone_ hits on him anyway and he certainly _never_ hit on anyone in his entire life. He’s more or less the same height as Sam, with long, dark hair that curls around his neck, a pair of lovely grey eyes and a lovely, _lovely_ toned body that he’s totally showing off with that fake leather suit hugging it in all the best ways.

“Wait,” she says, “ _Jon Snow?_ What a coincidence, I can’t believe — wait, it’s you, right? It’s been years, but I’m sure —”

“It’s Stark now,” he says, smiling a bit, his cheeks flushing, “but yeah. Oh,” he says, turning towards Sam, “I and her, we were in the same group home for some time a while ago. How long has it been, ten years?”

“Yes,” she says, “but I see your relatives are treating you well?”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, back in the day I couldn’t have begun to imagine. And how is it with you?”

“Oh,” she says, “I left when I turned eighteen some three years ago, but it’s been good. I’m rooming with a friend, I’m in uni, it’s all good. But what a chance that the three of us are dressed as people from the same comic, right?”

“Who’d have known,” Jon agrees. “Valiant save there, by the way.”

Wait, is Jon talking to _him_?

“Oh. It was nothing, really —”

“Sam, that creep had been harassing me for some ten minutes and no one stepped in. Please.”

“Uh, well, it really was the least —”

“Oh my God,” some kid passing by says, “you three look _amazing_.”

“What?” Sam blurts.

The kid is holding up his phone. “You look _just_ like the original ones. Can I take a picture?”

Sam looks at the two of them. “Uh, if you’re good with that —”

“Sure,” Gilly says, grinning and putting an arm around him.

“Yeah, of course. One moment,” Jon says, slipping the mask back on and moving on the other side. Fuck, Sam’s sandwiched between them and he thinks he wants to faint.

He also thinks it’s not going to last much, so he should probably enjoy being in the middle of two nice and _attractive_ people, but then another kid shows up and says he wants a picture _with_ them, and then his friends _also_ wants a picture with them, and they aren’t left alone before ten minutes.

“Woah,” Gilly says, “I wasn’t expecting that. Did it really come out that well? The costume, I mean.”

“It’s great,” Sam immediately agrees.

“It is,” Jon says in a low voice. “And — listen, I was thinking, most likely we’re going to get stopped again and it’d be nice to catch up. Maybe we can go all around as the Nelson and Murdock firm at this point? I’m here with my siblings — cousins, never mind — but they insisted on going off on their own, so it’s not like I have pressing obligations until seven PM.”

“Seriously?” Sam asks. “I mean, I’d love to, but — are you sure, if you two want to catch up I wouldn’t want to —”

“Please,” Gilly says, “that’d be a very bad send-off if I just left you here when you were risking a punch to the face at least.”

“Don’t even,” Jon says, “I’m not _that_ kind of asshole.” He smiles a bit under the mask.

Sam doesn’t want to know how the guy looks when he’s smiling properly because that hint was enough to make his hands sweat a bit, and then Gilly full-on _grins_ at him and he thinks he’s going to faint for real at this point.

——

He doesn’t faint.

Rather than fainting, he walks around the entire place with the two of them. They get stopped every other minute for pictures and compliments and so on and Sam’s not entirely sure he’s not dreaming the entire afternoon — he’s heard that _he looks great_ more in the last three hours than in his entire life, not counting his mother —, and they actually sign up for the cosplay contest and they come in _second_. They only win a couple of t-shirts but it’s kind of nice, and throughout the entire thing he finds out that Gilly ended up in foster care because her father was the kind of bastard that should get locked up for life ( _ending up there was the best thing that happened to me, honestly_ , she says), that Jon was there for a couple of years after his biological parents died but then was taken in by his mother’s family when they tracked him down and that his cousins/siblings are actually all around the con.

“Wait,” Sam tells him, “you’re telling me that the Jessica Jones I gave my first fake business card to was your sister?”

“If her hair was shorter than it should’ve been and she looked like me, that was Arya, yes.”

“What a coincidence,” Sam stammers.

“Uh, wait, didn’t your uncle’s wife have auburn hair and blue eyes?”

“You _remember_ that? But yeah, she does. Why?”

“Because I’m suspecting that the Iron Fist with auburn hair a blue eyes I ran into before was your brother at this point?”

Jon snorts, drinking some water from a bottle he got at the bar a moment ago. “Yeah, that’d be Robb. Not that I can blame him, he doesn’t even have to act to pull that off. All my other siblings look like him by the way — Sansa, my other sister, she’s Trish. Bran and Rickon — er, they went as Frank Castle and his sidekick. They shouldn’t even be into that, but who ever stops them from reading the comics?” He shrugs. “Anyway, I think Robb’s bringing them all home later, I don’t have to go back with them.”

“Hm,” Gilly says, “you’ve got anything to do, after?”

“What?” Sam gasps. “No, not at all. I mean, I’m at my own place since I started uni, I don’t have to go back home. Why?”

“Because I was thinking, we could all get dinner together? I mean, it’s been a nice con, we should celebrate.”

“I’m down with that,” Jon agrees, staring at him, and Sam immediately accepts, just before someone else asks them for a picture.

He’s still not entirely sure he’s _not_ dreaming the entire exchange, but when he casually drops hints that his father couldn’t believe it he can see that both Jon and Gilly understood what he’s implying, and neither of them goes back on their invitation, and they get complimented all over again on their get-up and _chemistry_ , apparently, until it’s seven PM and the entire thing shuts down for the day.

They do go for dinner at the nearby pizza place, in full-on costume except for Jon who took off the mask, and the waitress doesn’t comment on it — thankfully.

And thing is — even if Jon and Gilly knew each other, they _don’t_ shut him out of the conversation and they actually keep on getting along like a house on fire, all three of them, and by the time they’re getting dessert, after they had a beer each (Jon mutters something about _technically_ not being eighteen for another two months yet but no one asked him for ID), they’re going from how much the end of season two was a low blow to what they do when they’re not being nerds, as the waitress dubbed them (Jon’s taking his A-Levels at the end of the school year, Gilly’s in nursing school and he’s working on his history degree), and by the time they stumble out of the parlor with Gilly leaning on the both of them and they’re all in _great_ spirits.

And thing is — Sam would _never_ propose such a thing, usually, but he’s tipsy and he _likes_ the both of them and they both seem to like him, for some kind of miracle, and so the proposal leaves his mouth before he can think back on it.

“Uh,” he says, “I live some five minutes from here. If it’s too late and you want to crash at my place, no one’s there. Of course, if you don’t —”

“You know,” Jon says, “I think I’m down with that.” Is he staring at Sam’s mouth as he’s talking, or is Sam imagining things?

“God, yes, I live on the other side of town,” Gilly says, “that’d be _great_. If it’s not a bother, of course.”

“Everything but,” Sam blurts before he can say something _less ridiculous_ , but then Gilly’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Then I’m down with that, too. Well, I guess that creep harassing me before at least got us to meet, could’ve been _way_ worse.”

“Oh,” Jon says, “it _definitely_ could have been worse. So, which way’s that?” He grins, and wow, he really does look a lot nicer when he smiles fully, and his _other_ hand grabs Sam’s, and —

“Straight for three blocks and then it’s the first on the left,” Sam says, his voice strangled. _Is this really happening_ , he thinks. “I’ll just —”

“Sure, do lead the way,” Gilly says. “And stop blushing, you look great. Costume or not.”

“What —” Sam stammers.

“She always was good at pegging people down,” Jon smirks. “I agree, by the way. So, should we go?”

Sam momentarily forgets all his reservations and decides that tomorrow he’s absolutely posting on Facebook a couple of pictures of the three of them that got taken by the official con photographer and that ended up on their official page, if both Gilly and Jon agree to it.

“Sure,” he says, smiling fully, and he has no idea of what’s happening when they finally get upstairs but he has a feeling he’s going to like it, and he decides that doing this cosplay thing was the _best_ idea he’s had in his entire life.

 

 

(Hours later, both Jon and Gilly will agree with him as the three of them lie down on his bed in various states of undressing and coherence, and Sam will still think that he has dreamed the three of them trading kisses on the sofa as they re-watched the Daredevil pilot, but the next morning he’ll know for sure he hasn’t dreamed it when Jon makes breakfast for the three of them.

Yes, _definitely_ the best idea he’s ever had.)

 

 

End.


End file.
